Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ONLY JOE, by JAMES ROANN REED


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ONLY JOE, by                    
First Line: This grave were ye meanin,' stranger?
Last Line: That a body could never do that, as were simple and dazed, like joe!
Subject(s): Cemeteries; Death; Graves; Legends; Graveyards; Dead, The; Tombs; Tombstones


THIS grave were ye meanin', stranger? Oh, there's nobody much lies here;
It's only poor Joe, a dazed lad -- been dead now better'n a year.
He was nobody's child, this Joe, sir -- orphaned the hour of his birth,
And simple and dazed all his life, yet the harmlessest cretur on earth.

Some say that he died broken-hearted; but that is all nonsense, you know,
For a body could never do that as were simple and dazed like Joe.
But I'll tell you the story, stranger, an' then you can readily see
How easy for some folks to fancy a thing that never could be.

Do you see that grave over yonder? Well, the minister's daughter lies there;
She were a regular beauty, an' as good as she were fair.
She'd a nod an' a kind word for Joe, sir, whenever she passed him by;
But bless ye, that were nothin' -- she couldn't hurt even a fly.

It wern't very often, I reckon, that people a kind word would say,
For Joe was simple an' stupid, an' allus in somebody's way;
So I s'pose he kind o' loved her; but then that were nothin', you know,
For there wasn't a soul in the village but loved her better'n Joe.

An' when Milly took down with consumption, or some such weakness as that,
Joe took on kind o' foolish -- there was nothin' for him to cry at;
An' he'd range the woods over for hours for flowers to place by her bed,
An' Milly, somehow or other, kind o' liked his dazed ways, they said.

But when winter was come, she died, sir, an' I well remember the day
When we carried the little coffin to the old churchyard away;
It were so bitter cold, we were glad when the grave were made,
An' when we were done an' went home, I suppose poor Joe must have stayed;

They found him here the next mornin', lyin' close to the grave, they said,
An' a looking like he was asleep; but then, of course, he were dead.
I suppose he got chilled and sleepy -- an' how could a body know
How dangerous that kind o' sleep is, as never knowed nothin', like Joe?

So they say that he died broken-hearted; but that only shows, do you see,
How easy for some folks to fancy a thing that never could be;
For now you have heard the story, you'll agree with me, stranger, I know,
That a body could never do that, as were simple and dazed, like Joe!





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net